


Oktoberfest

by siffy



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Belly Kink, Body Worship, Feeding Kink, M/M, Stuffing, Weight Gain, feedee, feeder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 08:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20485874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siffy/pseuds/siffy
Summary: Crowley adores Aziraphale, everything about him. But what he adores most is how soft he is, how much he loves to eat, and how he eats with such a love and vigor. So his goal becomes simple: bring Aziraphale to Oktoberfest. A festival where he can drink himself to a stupor, and where Aziraphale can eat as much as he wants. A simple plan. Get him to loose control and forget his limits, and fatten himself up. Maybe it's Crowley's own nature for such temptations and sins, but he ropes the plan to get what he wants--a softer Aziraphale.





	Oktoberfest

“Oktoberfest?” Aziraphale echoed Crowley’s suggestion, lifting his head up from the tome. His eyebrows rose, thumbs brushing against the edge of the pages. Slowly he shifted in bed to better look at his partner, who was sprawled out on his stomach, lazily watching him with those gold eyes. A blink in response to his words, and Aziraphale snorted weakly. “That’s where you want to go?”

Slowly the demon stirred, and suddenly rolled over, flopping onto his back easily. His black tank top tugged at his lean frame, pale arms moving from the blanket to fold lazily behind his head. Smirking again, the demon nodded, licking his lips almost hungrily.

“Absolutely, angel. Eighteen days of all the best German breweries, restaurants, and other stuff come together for a giant festival. Drinking the best beer in the world! And…some of the best German food, all in one place.” He winked up at him, causing the angel to stiffen up a moment in dark, bashful blush.

“Well…this is awfully sudden. I didn’t know you wished to go to somewhere like this.” The angel mumbled, slipping a bookmark between the pages and closing the heavy book. It was placed on the night table, the angel slowly shifting in the bed to roll on his side. “We haven’t been to Germany in a few hundred years, really. And I didn’t think that you’d like somewhere rather…open, public.”

“There’s going to be plenty of alcohol!” Crowley cackled, smirking a devilish grin up at the other. “Of course I’m willing to brave the crowds for that! Haven’t had a good brawl crawl in what feels like decades! And this year all the good companies are taking part.”

“You’ve taken your time thinking over this, haven’t you?” Aziraphale chuckled softly, leaning over to draw his fingers against his arm. The demon purred a bit, squirming slightly beneath the covers. “I can certainly tell. Oktoberfest is only…two weeks away. And you seem set on going to this festival.”

“We go to France for crepes all the time, and go to Spain for bread, and go to Italy for proper cuisine! Why can’t we go to Germany for some good drinks?” Crowley practically whined, rolling onto his side and grabbing onto Aziraphale. He tugged onto him just a bit, before wrapping his arms around him, burying his face into his soft chest. “Come onnnnn Angel. It’ll be great. If you don’t agree I’ll go without you—“

“You wouldn’t dare!” Aziraphale gasped softly, his eyes widening as the other nestled into him. He placed his plump hands on his lithe form, fingers curling into his tank. “You wouldn’t…go without me, would you? Crowley--!”

Crowley merely hummed from where he lay, lifting his head up to look up at Angel. His cheeks puffed out in a tiny sort of pout, tightening his grip on him. He didn’t say a word, and it was not thirty seconds later when Aziraphale sighed loudly, slumping forward into his partner. Face buried in his red hair, he exhaled softly, nodding a few times.

“Yes, yes…alright. We’ll go. It’s only fair, after all, with how often I drag you out to a new restaurant or a place to eat a favorite delicacy. And well…I’d love to have a bratwurst…its been quite awhile…”

“See, angel?” Crowley snickered, picking his head up to smile warmly at him. He leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips, causing the other to melt just a bit. “You can eat as much as you’d like, and well…I can go on my little bar crawl. Then we’re both happy, aren’t we?”

“I suppose so.” Aziraphale hummed softly, petting him just a bit, fingers dragging along his bare skin. “Tomorrow morning we’ll start packing up, then, for our trip. We shouldn’t have much to pack, then. Two weeks, then? Plenty of time to prepare, yes?”

“Mm, yes.”

“Oh, you wily old demon, keeping me on my toes, aren’t you? Twisting my arm once again.” Aziraphale lamented, unable to feel Crowley smirking against his chest. Wasn’t too hard of a temptation, really. Just a simple question and batting his eyelashes up at him. That’s how he had him. Sure, he wanted to go to drink to his heart’s content, but…he knew the best way to get him on his side was just mention food. Aziraphale adored his food, Crowley thought, lazily dragging his fingers along the lovehandles under his shirt.

This was going to be fun.

\--

Crowley wouldn’t deny that this was absolutely for himself. Always they were going to wherever Aziraphale wanted to go to. Italy for Pizza? Sure. France for Crepes? Absolutely. Spain for Paella? Done. And Aziraphale would eat to his heart’s content, stuffing himself until he couldn’t move, leaving Crowley hot and bothered. He adored their trips…but…

The demon rarely if ever ate. There wasn’t anything very…appetizing waiting for him in these choices Aziraphale made. Not that he minded—he got a show when he tagged along—but that was really it, unfortunately.

And then he remembered Oktoberfest, and his mind went crazy with thoughts and ideals. Finally! A tantalizing offering that he could eat as well! Restaurants and Breweries came together for eighteen whole days, right in Germany! German beers galore, as much as he could stomach. Crowley wasn’t much for food, but he adored a good beer. The idea of a bar crawl was splendid, and he shivered with anticipation at the thought.

Of course, dear Aziraphale wouldn’t be alone in their endeavors. Not at all. There were delicious sausages, treats, German dishes waiting for him. The stands didn’t just have beers, oh no, Crowley wouldn’t have went if that were the case. Food for Aziraphale to eat to his heart’s content, while Crowley drowned himself in alcohol…

Yes, Crowley thought with a devilish grin, waving his hands as his clothes and his personal belongings drifted into his suitcase. A tiny cackle, audible only to the demon.

Unlimited food. Food from different restaurants. Food from different parts of Germany. Food at the ready for him at all the stands and breweries set up. Food, all for darling Aziraphale to eat to his heart’s content.

And Crowley could watch, beer in hand, and encourage him all the while. There were unlimited options for them both...how could Aziraphale not like it? Oh, he was going to love it, he was sure of it.

“Angel!” Crowley called from the other side of the apartment, the zipper of his duffle closing automatically. He didn’t need much in the way of clothes or anything like that for the trip. He was a demon, after all, he would make do. “Are you ready? We have to be going soon!”

“Almost, Crowley! Just need to finish packing…”

“You’ve been packing for hours, Angel, lets go!” Crowley groaned, rolling his head back as he marched into where Aziraphale was.

He’d have a great time, as soon as they could get moving.

\--

A room had suspiciously opened up at the hotel across from where Oktoberfest was being held. Right smack in Munich, Crowley was able to get them checked in at a fancy hotel only five minutes from the festival with ease. Aziraphale couldn’t help but be impressed, blinking in surprise as someone took their bags.

“You had this all set up, didn’t you, darling?” the angel blinked, before a grin spread upon the demon’s lips.

“You know I take care of you, angel.”

Aziraphale, of course, didn’t object. He couldn’t. A sweet smile crossed upon his features, and he lowered his gaze for but a moment.

“Yes…you always do.”

\--

Oktoberfest was to start tomorrow. This was his warmup, Crowley mused. If he wanted to get Aziraphale to enjoy himself, he just had to…coax him, that he could eat without limits. Aziraphale usually preferred to eat in private, tucked away even in restaurants, but he supposed he could get him to easily alter his usual preferences for the next few days. He did agree to this, after all.

They were in a nice hotel, and such with the name was nice restaurants right within. Crowley had to get his practice in. Use his words right. Tomorrow they would be out in the open, amongst thousands of people, all vying for a taste of German beer and fair food. It would be not what Aziraphale was used to.

Slinking up to the angel, Crowley hummed, resting his hands on his soft hips from behind. Already so plump, his gluttonous angel…the snake licked his lips, pupils dilating just a bit from excitement. A little bit more weight would…be rather lovely on his form. Yes, absolutely.

“My darling Angel.” Crowley cooed, hissing in his ear as Aziraphale unpacked, taking his clothes out of his suitcase and hanging them up. The demon’s golden eyes flickered, watching him carefully as he took each piece, one by one, hanging them so delicately. He waited a moment, only hearing a hum of acknowledgement from his partner, and hissed quietly. Why was he doing this when he could just—

A snap of his fingers, and the clothes were hung up. Aziraphale gasped in alarm, turning around, with a sort of pout present upon his chubby face.

“Crowley!” he whined. “I was handling it--! I wanted it hung up a certain way.”

“I wassss…rather impatient.” The demon cooed a moment, slipping in front of him fully now that he was turned. “It’s just clothessss, right? Nothing to worry about. I’ll fix it up for you if you want to so badly. Now they’re hung up.”

A sigh left Aziraphale’s lips, and he slowly nodded, almost reluctantly. “I suppose you’re right.” He breathed out, looking back at his partner with a sweet look. “Well then…what shall we do now? We can watch television, take a walk through the hotel—“

“Well…” Crowley hummed, moving to take his hands. His slim fingers brushed against his plump ones, and he gave a tight squeeze. Gently he tugged, and easily Aziraphale followed, moving along with him. Crowley swayed his hips a bit, tapping his foot, as if unable to contain the energy swirling within him; he heard Aziraphale’s giggle past his thoughts. A hum, and he smirked. “We could always go to the restaurant downstairs, couldn’t we? Get a taste for German cuisine. We don’t want to make fools of ourselves tomorrow—“

“Oh! Yes, yes!” Aziraphale suddenly grinned, bouncing on his feet and following Crowley’s movements. It was as if they were dancing, a light swaying motion from both of them in a tight little circle. “Research, of course, my dear Crowley! We haven’t eaten in Germany—at least, I haven’t—since the eighteen hundreds! The cuisine must have changed since then.”

“Certainly.” Crowley said with a toothy grin.

“Well then!” Aziraphale laughed, moving around him. He grabbed onto his arm, and tugged gently, already moving towards the door. “We’ll have to do our research ahead of time, won’t we? We’ll have to…make ourselves familiar with the cuisine! With the alcohol! We need to prepare for the coming days.”

“Absolutely.” Crowley agreed.

“Come now! Onwards and upwards!” Aziraphale boasted proudly, bumping his fist for a moment. The door opened on its own, and Aziraphale tugged him behind him.

\--

It wasn’t that hard to get Aziraphale to eat, Crowley realized, smiling lazily as he helped to walk the other back to their hotel room. Never was it hard to eat, but to get him to eat a bit more, each time, to coax him into yet another bite…? Not hard at all. Not in the slightest.

He kept a thin arm around Aziraphale’s waist, and he wondered briefly if that was the only thing keeping him standing. A gentle squeeze, hearing the angel groan a bit at the force.

“Oh, Crowley…” Aziraphale whined, cradling his full belly. His jacket was now undone, the buttons straining on his vest, and his shirt riding up just a bit. Not enough to expose skin—not yet, anyways—but enough to where it bunched up where his stomach met his chest, tight across the abdomen.

All of it had come undone. Plate after plate of food. Aziraphale didn’t want to eat too much at first, still having Gabriel’s words lingering in his head. But with a bit of temptation and perhaps a demonic influence or too that Crowley wouldn’t admit to, he coaxed him into eating another plateful. Then another. Then another.

“You have to start with an appetizer.” Crowley had began, to which Aziraphale agreed.

“Oh, of course. I am rather puckish, after all.”

“And then a salad, right? Perhaps some soup as well.”

“I suppose…

It was easy for the first three courses, and Aziraphale then absolutely set himself up for danger as he lamented over his choice for a meal. A steak, a lobster, veal, chicken, pasta…Crowley convinced him to get two plates, and he ordered for himself a third option. Sure, he could’ve probably gotten him to eat the whole menu. But he didn’t want him to be pushed too far. Not yet. He was a rather sensitive Angel—couldn’t use too much magic and get him picking up on it.

Crowley didn’t eat, pushing his roasted chicken alfredo with penne with a fork absently as Aziraphale ate to his heart’s content. A mixture of flavors and delights, the man happily complimenting each dish. He ate with vigor, and managed to finish the two meals rather easily.

Angels (and demons for that matter) ran on a different set of physics than a human. Their corpeal forms looked real enough, of course, but they were fueled by magic, not just flesh and blood and bones and all that gunk. Should they have willpower, anything they wanted to happen could indeed happen. With that notion, with food consumption, if they did not wish to have a limit, they then could eat whatever and however much they desired.

Aziraphale hadn’t exactly…mastered that just yet. It was enough to get him to splurge on this. But Crowley could see that he was already pushing that limit he set on himself. When he shifted in his seat, trying to get a comfortable position, he blinked past his black lenses. He noted how the other leaned back a bit, to give his stomach more space. His eyes widened as he unbuttoned his jacket halfway through the set meal, showing his absolutely rounded belly, as if he were pregnant.

And of course, the all too sweet demon smiled all too wide, and nudged his pasta towards him with a tiny little coo.

“Im simply terribly full, angel. Do you think you could help me out, just a little bit? What a waste of food.”

The thought of wasting food drew Aziraphale to lean forward with a pained grunt and take the bowl of food. Crowley traced the gaps between the buttons of his vest with a curious little hum, his tongue flicking out in a tiny hiss as he watched him eat. Each bite was a struggle, but with a few kind words, and a delicate brushing of his foot against the other’s leg, he succeeded in finishing.

Despite Aziraphale’s words of his poor aching stomach, that he certainly overdid it, and even how he ran a pudgy hand down his belly, he still mentioned dessert. Something along the lines of needing a sweet after that meal. A sort of bookend.

Whatever the logic was, Aziraphale ate a small slice of cake, and they called it there. Crowley made note of what he ate—the other always loved his sweets—and offered to take him back to the room.

Thus was where they were now. Crowley helped the other to sit onto the edge of the bed, the poor angel groaning.

“I’ve eaten too much.” Aziraphale whimpered, unbuttoning his vest and then immediately his pants. A sigh of relief was heard, his pale white belly spilling forward into his lap. Closing his eyes, he rubbed where his stomach was most sore.

Crowley removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, biting his forked tongue as he held back from petting him.

“Ooh…and you said that this…Oktoberfest, as you called it, was going to be a festival of food, then?”

“Yeah.” Crowley nodded a few times, licking his lips as he moved towards the other side of the bed. His shoes were kicked off with a flourish, and he jumped on the bed. Landing on his back, he sprawled out, before curling around Aziraphale. His face buried in his side, bringing his legs up to almost coil around his beloved.

Lazily he yawned, his glasses materializing on the other night table. Golden eyes watched as his hand moved in slow, circular motion, noting how much rounder he was compared to before their meal. His pupils were rounded, not slits as they usually were, and resembled a curious cat, staring at what was forbidden to their access.

“Food, alcohol, music, entertainment. Rides too, I think, they bring in. For the little ones, yeah? Petting zoo probably.” Crowley shrugged. “All the big wig restaurants come in, set up little tents, and that’s what they do. A big old festival. Cultural thing by now.”

“I see.” Aziraphale whispered, and Crowley searched his expression for anything notable, but his search came up empty. He blinked owlishly, tilting his head a moment; he practically jumped out of his skin when Aziraphale suddenly nodded.

A huff, and he moved to fall back against the bed, Crowley quickly squirming to not be squished, and instead crawl up beside him. The angel’s stomach stuck straight up, and the demon flopped beside him, resting lazily on his belly.

“Well then. We shall be well rested for tomorrow.” The angel yawned a moment, before lazily waving his hand. In a breath they were wearing their pajamas, Crowley’s pupils dilating even more at the motion. “We shall have a big day, won’t we? Oh, you’ll have a good time, I believe, with the German drafts. And I haven’t had a German Bratwurst in so long…”

Crowley didn’t pay much mind to his words, instead slipping an arm around Aziraphale to snuggle closer to him. The buttons of his pajamas were snug—not tight, but not as loose as they once were. The hem was not as long either, coming a bit closer to the waistline. Perhaps in a few days, it wouldn’t fit any longer.

The thought made the demon snicker, lazily kissing Aziraphale’s soft neck with a tiny purr. This was going to be rather lovely.


End file.
